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My editor ran off with a bass player and hasn’t been seen since. I have no idea what the attraction or the lure there is, but there’s just something about a bass guitar that seems to lead women astray. Even my husband knows this is real thing in the world, on account of the fact that he has sometimes demanded to know, “are you looking at the bass player?” He has then proceeded to move us out of alignment, so I can not even see the bass player anymore. I once asked, “are you engaging in some odd mate guarding ritual around bass players or something?” But he just said, “No.”

I actually do not have an editor, but someone did mention that I should fire her and they are probably right, but obviously I cannot fire her if she has disappeared with Mr. Four Strings himself and his magic thumbs. What can I say, it is what it is.ย  Life happens.

So, I am well aware that I have issues around bass players, and also around words like “than” and “then.” It’s not my fault really, because this is now, time is not linear, and to “than” things suggests a comparison, which than leads to envy and coveting. Or perhaps it then leads to envy and coveting, as in now we have arrived at the proper timeย  and season for coveting?

Envy and coveting by the way, may well be one of the shortest paths to misery ever invented by human beings, but I’m still uncertain about that. We’re pretty inventive about coming up with new and improved short paths to misery.

No, English is not my second language, it is my first language, and naturally I would manage to pick the worst language ever. To make matters worse, it isn’t even really English, it’s American. To really foul the pot, I don’t think anyone around here actually speaks it. I got a nasty note the other day that informed me “I shouldna or I was gonna……” How does one even reply to such things? So naturally I just scribbled, “Wahtja problemo?”

We’re actually having an intense power struggle over dryer lint. Sad but true. Let me tell you, never underestimate the human hierarchies that can rise up and rear their ugly head…..over dryer lint.

So now you see why I covet my editor who had the good sense to just run off with a bass player…

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